


Found Family For Dummies

by rebel_raven



Category: Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Blood, Diesel is a softie and misses his family, Dr. Grey is the only one with braincells, Everybody Lives Nobody Dies, Everyone Needs Hugs, Explosions, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Healing Magic, Lindsay adopts people, M/M, Magical Creatures, Mentions of past abuse, Mind Control, Nothing can be done, Panic Attacks, Project Freelancer related Trauma, Protective Found Family, Scars, Selkies, Sign Language, Soft Maine, Stolen Names, Washington is an idiot, a lot of blood, brief bit of violence, carwash siblings, fey, mental scars, mentions of past injuries, past trauma, powers, working through trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebel_raven/pseuds/rebel_raven
Summary: It took a very long time for Washington and Maine to feel comfortable in their new lives, in knowing that Project Freelancer was far behind them. Only for loose ends to come and attempt to unravel their lives, and with a truly idiotic plan, attempt to fix it. They will do whatever it takes to protect their family and to find the missing pieces to their group. No one is ever left behind.
Relationships: Agent Carolina/Agent York (Red vs. Blue), Butch Flowers | Agent Florida/Agent Wyoming | Reginald, The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Found Family For Dummies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anthem_of_Liones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthem_of_Liones/gifts).



> An RT writing community secret santa for Anthem_of_Liones! Buckle up, this one's a wild ride. This was a really fun piece to write and I went absolutely ham, I have no apologies. You gave me a lot of really good prompts, but I had to go with "Characters are an adventuring party who've run into some trouble, resulting in some injuries/flare-ups in past trauma (physical and/or mental), cue group comfort session (can be shippy or naw; dnd-inspired/modern/futuristic; so long as fantasy/magic elements are incorporated; can include full encounter/extra bits after if you want)."  
> And that was just too much fun to NOT have RvB and AH cross over with so much magic. Thank you so much for such amazing prompts, I hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> -RR

It never failed to impress and shock Washington at the complete and utter stupidity of some people, and if some people occasionally included himself, he was the first person to freely admit it. Antagonizing the guard wasn’t smart, but then the guard getting into his holding cell to get him to “quiet down” was the stupidest damn thing they’d ever done.

“Like, really,” Wash complained, after making sure they were well and thoroughly out. “That is the oldest damn trick in the book. What the fuck were they doing, do they just not give a fuck? There’s also no cameras in here, which is even shoddier. We had more surveillance in the bathrooms in Freelancers than these cells do. I don’t know if I’m more disappointed or amused.”

There was a low, rumbling laugh from the cell down the block. It was interspersed with bubbles and the occasional slap of a tail and Wash smiled.

“Aww, thanks Maine. I knew you thought I was hilarious after all this time.”

That got him a rather wet snort and a lower slap. Wash could almost see Maine rolling his eyes at him and he smiled to himself. He sat on the uncomfortable cot and maneuvered himself around to get his manacles undone so he could freely walk, and stuck the ring of keys in his mouth as he rubbed his ankles and raw shins to get blood flowing again. Three days wasn’t long in the scope of things, but it was far too long for being held anywhere near the Counselor. Wash felt a cold shudder run down his spine, like a knife was tapping at each vertebrae before he shook himself out and forced himself to breathe. He had to get the manacles off his ankles in order to move, and then figure out how to get Maine free, the manacles off his wrists, and try and find Diesel, if he was even still there.

The taste of sour metal in his mouth was little better than the tang of copper from earlier, though he knew that the wounds he’d been given weren’t near deep enough to cause any kind scarring and the chaffing was already healing. The unsettling feeling of his skin knitting itself back together was too familiar, soft and buzzing, and one he was too accustomed to. He could feel parts of his carefully constructed walls slipping down and almost paused to make sure it was real. Instead, Wash pulled his socks off and fashioned them into a gag, then pushed himself to his feet. He gagged the guard and used the open manacles to shackle his left arm to his right ankle, then he quickly left, locking the door behind himself.

Wash looked around, weighing his options before he called,

“Diesel! Diesel, can you hear me?”

Wash paced down the length of the block, counting the cells as he went. Ten on either side. Peering into the little plexiglass window showed empty cells, and Wash felt his heart sink a little more. There was one cell, three down from Maine’s “cell” that had a large swatch of dried blood in the corner that hadn’t been scrubbed away. Wash forced himself to not think about it. It wasn’t Diesel’s. They had no idea if it was Diesel’s.

He took a deep breath for a moment before he jogged to Maine’s “cell.” It was a water filled glass cube that regularly filtered water, with a small platform and air holes to keep Maine from drowning, but nowhere near enough space for the already large spotted seal to turn back to a human and be at all comfortable. Not that Wash expected Maine to turn human while they’d been there, since if the Counselor got his hands on his partner’s jacket-- Wash didn’t want to think about what could be done.

“Hey big guy,” Wash said, flipping through keys as Maine stared at him with deep, dark amber eyes. “I know, I’m moving. Just hold on. Was looking for Diesel, but he’s-he’s not here. Found blood in a cell three down, don’t know if it’s his though.”

Wash was thoroughly aware of the time limit they had pressing on them, and his fingers trembled as the nape of his neck burned. The itch of regrowing hair was softer but simply added to his frustration and fear, but Wash had gotten good at ignoring such things and let out a breathless laugh as he found the right key and turned it in the lock, though the top of the tank was too heavy for him to try and remove himself. He watched Maine push himself up to the top and take a deep breath of air through his nose, before there was a waver, like he was made of paper, or plastic sheeting, and a human Maine was looking at him, hair floating for a moment in the water.

The giant man didn’t hesitate as he heaved the top of the tank up and over, hauling himself out with a grunt and a soft gasp for air. Wash didn’t let his partner have a moment to find his legs, instead reaching out and running his hands over his sopping wet shirt and pressing against his ribs and hips, sweeping out and over the soft leather of his jacket as he checked each arm. He scanned Maine’s face, tugging his partner down to his level, running his fingers gently over the thick scars on his neck, over the scar across his temple, down his nose and across his cheek, over the shaven half of his partner’s head to the hair that flopped over the side and was currently plastered to the left side of Maine’s face. In any other situation, Wash would have found it endearing and hilarious. In the moment, it was grounding and magnified how long they’d been there.

“Wash,” Maine murmured, catching his hands in his own, gentle and calloused. “Get clear,” he looked down at himself and grunted. “And dry clothes. Get these off.”

He pulled the key from the lock and quickly flipped through the keys to find the right one for Wash’s manacles. He unlocked them and tossed the offending things into the tank, sticking the key ring into his jacket pocket. Maine rubbed blood back into Wash’s wrists, movements quick but gentle.

Wash nodded, taking a deep breath as he wriggled his fingers, getting feeling back slowly but surely. He would live. “Right. Right. Okay. Let’s go.”

Maine nodded once and immediately slipped a hand into Wash’s, squeezing tight. Wash held on just as tight as they silently made their way down the hall, alert for the smallest movement in the corners of their eyes, the flicker of a camera or the trail of a guard’s footstep.They made it up a flight of stairs, their feet squeaking now and again on the floor despite their best efforts, and Wash could feel his heart pounding loudly in his ears before he spotted a room. It looked like a resupply room, and with a quick look at Maine, it was clear he’d spotted it as well.

“Wait.” Maine signed.

Wash nodded and let Maine creep ahead of him, his nose twitching as he smelled the air to try and find if there were any guards or nasty surprises. Wash tensed as Maine held up two fingers and nodded. Maine sprinted forward and Wash followed behind, though he knew that as soon as he got to the door that it was over. Maine growled and the sound of a bone cracking together echoed through the room and out to the hall. Wash skidded to a halt and barely looked at the sprawled limp limbs on the ground, the slight rise and fall of the pair’s backs all that gave away that they weren’t dead. Maine was raiding the lockers, growling under his breath. Wash stepped over the bodies and took stock of the room.

It was bland; grey lockers on black walls with dark blue metal benches running parallel to each other a few feet from the lockers. There was the door, and no visible cameras. Wash didn’t let himself relax in the slightest and started to help Maine open the lockers. Most had nothing, though one had a few granola bars, which he grabbed, tossing two to Maine with a soft whistle to get his partner’s attention. Maine made a grateful noise and tore into the first one quickly, wolfing the dry granola down and stuffing the wrapper in his pocket. Wash copied him, his stomach making it very clear that he was hungry, and the granola tempered the hunger back a little bit, enough to make it so he wasn’t cramping while running.

“What’re you looking for?” Wash asked around a mouthful of granola.

“Bag we brought before getting grabbed,” Maine said. “Weapons, water, phone to Kimball, clothes.”

“Think they’d be stupid enough to keep them here?”

“Think the Counselor wants to see us,” Maine said after a long moment. “Get to him first.”

Wash could feel the room narrowing to a singular point. There was so much that he’d wanted to say to that, so much that he wanted to tear through, but there wasn’t much to say. They’d known the Counselor had been after them, had been wanting to find them, hunting them down after he’d gotten Diesel. Guilt lanced through him, white hot and painful, and made him want to be sick. They’d not heard anything from the other cells, and Wash knew that Diesel wasn’t likely there. With no cams in the cells, Wash knew it would be pointless to try and find a surveillance room since there would be no way to check the cells in a sweep, and they didn’t have the time to manually go through every block, or even know how many blocks there were. For a hidden base in an old warehouse, the Counselor had truly decked the place out, though Wash couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he and Maine were missing.

“Wash,” Maine rumbled, reaching out to cup his cheek. “Wash, come back,”

He blinked several times, looking at his partner and leaned his cheek into Maine’s hand. It was big enough to hold his whole face, and underneath the bland smell of recycled air and stale water, Wash could smell salt, dirt, leather and very faintly, roses. Maine gave him a soft smile, the expression softening the old tired lines of his face and making him look so much younger. Maine held up a backpack and Wash smiled a little more, determination sparking in his chest and starting to build into a roaring flame, fed by his anger at loose ends, the injustices, the pain they’d all suffered by the Counselor’s hand. Wash put his hand over the one gently cradling his face and turned his head a little to press a kiss to Maine’s palm, resting there for a moment before he pulled away.

“Let’s go kick this piece of shits ass, buddy,”

Maine grinned, seal sharp teeth on display and he nodded once. They quickly stripped out of their wet clothes and changed into their dry sets, and Maine handed Wash a pair of knives before pulling out a silenced pistol and then another knife. Wash turned to go when Maine stopped him with a hand at his elbow.

“Here,” Maine said, shrugging out of his dry jacket and wrapping it around Wash’s shoulders. “Keep you warm and grounded.”

The leather was supple and a dark grey-black with little spots around the collar. The lining was softer than cashmere and made Wash want to curl up in it and simply live there; it always did when Maine let him wear it. It smelled heavily of sea salt and kelp, leather and faintly of roses and the lining smelled like snow. It was a heady mixture that never failed to make Wash feel protected and calm, like Maine had wrapped him up in a hug and wouldn’t let go for all the world. The sleeves were far too long and covered most of his hands, but the shoulders were settled enough so he wasn’t completely swimming in it.

“Thanks, Maine,” he said, smiling a touch.

Maine purred, that was the only name for the sound that came from the large man’s chest as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against Wash’s for a moment, just letting them share space in a fragile moment of peace.

“I love you,” Maine murmured.

Wash made a quiet little sound. “I love you too,”

It didn’t matter how many times he said it, or how many times Maine said it, Wash couldn’t help the dopey smile that curled at his lips, even if for just a moment.

“Now, let’s go tear this bastard apart,” he said, smiling viciously.

Maine rumbled in approval and lightly bumped their foreheads together before he pulled away and they started down the hall. The weight of Maine’s jacket was comforting and kept Wash’s mindseye from narrowing into a singular point and away from the edge of the panic attack that was waiting for him once everything was over. There were guards, but between the two of them it wasn’t hard to kill them. Maine was a one man army, and Wash was quiet and stealthy. It was no contest, though they tried to keep from shooting anyone. It brought too much attention, and there were supposedly reinforcements coming out to meet them, though Wash had very little faith in people.

Most people called it paranoia, and he was, but it wasn’t paranoia when people were actually after him and Maine, not to mention the rest of their family. Wash wrenched the knife free from another guard’s throat and followed after Maine, careful not to let his feet get in the too warm, sticky blood, or to touch the people he stabbed for long. He didn’t want to bring these people back to life after all. His magic itched and curled uncomfortably around his hands, needing to go somewhere, though the more magic that curled around his hands, the more the back of his neck burned and the more he wanted to scream.

He reached out for Maine’s hand, holding tight and made a broken noise when Maine squeezed back just shy of too hard.

“Almost there,” Maine murmured. “Almost. Can see sunlight, ahead. Windows.”

Wash just nodded and pushed back more of the panic. He couldn’t let it pull him under so far, he had to keep going and get himself and Maine the hell out of there.

“Remind me to bill Kimball for the metric fuck ton of therapy I’m getting after we kill this bastard,” he mumbled to Maine, getting an amused snort in return. “No, I’m serious. Why the fuck did we agree to this again?”

“Because loose ends, and Diesel,” Maine rumbled, loosening his grip a touch, soothing his thumb over the backs of Wash’s knuckles, the rough skin rasping and soothing. “Gotta get Diesel back. Not here, he’s somewhere else. Keep York and Carolina safe, North, South, Wyoming, Connie, Florida. Safe.”

“Okay, Florida and Wyoming are creepy old bastards who need to get their shit in order and pop the question-”

“Already married,” Maine interrupted.

“Wait, really? Well shit why didn’t we get invited?”

Maine huffed in amusement again, shaking his head slowly, his eyes shining with adoration and fond exasperation. Wash attempted a smile in return, though it felt brittle. From the concern in Maine’s eyes, it looked much worse, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Maine pressed his forehead against Wash’s, letting them breathe for a moment, one more fragile soap bubble moment.

“We’ll be okay,” Maine murmured, little more than sound vibrating through his chest.

Wash took a deep, shaking breath and nodded. “Right,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead harder against Maine’s. “Right,”

They lingered for what felt like hours but was only a few breaths before pulling away and continuing on. The guards were suspiciously lacking and Wash felt his hackles rise immediately. Something wasn’t right. He put a hand on Maine’s elbow, shoulders tensing as he looked around. Maine paused and looked at him, eyebrow raised in silent question.

“Something’s off. Where’re the guards?” Wash signed, looking around.

Maine frowned and grunted in the base of his chest, looking around carefully. “Haven’t heard any alarms either. Stay behind me.”

Wash nodded and fell in step immediately, the hold on his knife tightening immediately. His magic buzzed uncomfortably loud under his skin, mixing nigh unbearably with the marrow deep ache at the back of his neck but he ignored it and he didn’t let himself reach up to check that it was scar tissue and not an active mark. There were still no guards, no alarms, no cameras. Nothing. It felt too easy, too open, and Wash felt like his stomach would never unknot itself and his heart threatened to break from his chest and sprint down the hall. The smell of the sea, leather, roses and snow, the heavy weight curling over his shoulders anchored him and Wash took as quiet a gasp of air as he could as his lungs screamed like he’d been submerged in the actual sea.

“Wash,” Maine rumbled, not turning around. He didn’t need to. “Breathe. We’re going to be fine.”

Wash nodded and pressed his forehead into the middle of Maine’s back, taking deep, slow breaths, hands coming up to twist in Maine’s shirt.

‘ _Useless_ ,’ the drawling voice of the Counselor echoed through his mind, nearly enough to make him wince. ‘ _Honestly now. Matthew has gone through so much more, and yet here you are, David, acting like a child that is scared of the dark. You nearly lost him, and yet you’re the one who needs comfort._ ’

“Wash, breathe,” Maine’s voice shattered through his spiralling thoughts. “Breathe, please, Wash.”

“Fine, I’m fine, Maine.”

His voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

Maine huffed in disbelief. “Soon as we’re out of here, sitting and talking,”

Wash couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips even if he’d wanted to. “Sure thing, Mainer.”

“Don’t call me that,” amusement colored Maine’s voice and Wash nearly felt himself laugh.

“Truly, this is touching,” A disturbingly familiar voice drawled from behind them, making both of them stiffen and freeze as a ripple of magic pulled from the ground around Maine, making him cold like ice. “I feel like I should applaud you two. You’ve single handedly managed to find my base of operation and dismantle so much of what I’ve been building up. I would say Locus was my best man, but that would be a lie as clearly he was easy to turn.” A pause. “What, don’t want to turn around and see me? David, Matthew, I’m offended-”

“Shut. The _fuck up_ ,” Wash growled, surprising himself with how devoid of emotion his voice was. He pulled away from Maine and turned around, forcing down his internalized fear for his partner. “You did everything to yourself. And those aren’t our fucking _names_ -”

“Oh, no, of course not.” Adrian Price smirked at him, a gun levelled squarely at his chest. “You prefer to go by your code names now, like they’re replacements for what you feel you’ve lost. Interesting, isn’t it? How much power is in a Name. How much control you give over to someone by simply signing a form. Or, a simple spell that’s keeping your partner so still for me.”

“You think I’m afraid of you?” Wash asked, feeling his eyebrows climb as his magic sparked angrily along his fingers like embers popping from a fire. “You think after all this fucking time, that I have anything left towards you but contempt and hatred?”

“No. In fact, I’m counting on it.” the Counselor gave a slow smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve bloomed into a wonderful thistle. Prickly, hurting any that get too close, and ultimately, a weed.” he cocked the gun, smile turning into a smirk. “And as such, it’s my job to get rid of them, like you, David McCormmick Church.”

Wash felt like there was no air for a moment, heavy and painful, before the pressure was gone and he could breathe. The Counselor stared at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. He glanced to Maine, and Wash could feel the growl ripping through his partner. Maine was straining against the spell, trying his best to get free and Wash took a step forward, away from the comforting mountain that Maine represented, then another and another until he was almost a foot away from Maine, his ears full of buzzing magic and his lungs punched out of air, fingers twitching around the knife he held like it were more a part of him. With all the blood that had slicked its knife in the last gods knew how long, it may as well have been. Wash felt a distinctly cold viciousness rise up in him, something to do with the shock in the Counselor’s face at the lack of the effect his Name was having on him, the way he was moving closer instead of running away. Standing in front of Maine for once instead of behind him, for once being his shield and not watching his back.

“Answer us this,” Wash asked, shocked at how calm and clear his voice was, felt like inside he was breaking to the surface all over again. “What the fuck did you do with Diesel?”

The Counselor grinned, slow and steady, his voice dripping with condescension as he said,

“My dear David, what makes you think I’d tell you anything even if I did know?”

Several things happened in the span of a few seconds. There was a rumble in the floor that made the Counselor take a stumbling step forward as the glass blew out, and the alarms came blaring into Wash’s ears. He screamed, taking a step forward and letting the extension of himself fly as Maine spun with a roar and got a shot off over Wash’s head, the only notice that his gun went off at all was a flash in the corner of Wash’s eye. Then the air was punched out of his chest and he was falling to his knees, hands coming up to touch the spreading cold and coming away bloody.

“Wash-!” Maine’s voice was a little too distant, the buzz of magic suddenly louder.

It hurt. It hurt so much, gods why did getting shot always have to hurt so fucking much.

“S’gonna be okay, just breathe, breathe, Wash. Stop holding onto the magic,” Maine’s voice was a steady background noise to the painful buzz that rolled through his body.

“Man down! We found them, General-!”

Loud so loud needed it all to shut up for a minute, wanted it all to stop. It hurt so much. Why did it hurt?

“I have you, Wash. Come back,” steady pressure right over his heart, painfully tight.

Maine.

Wash heaved and gasped as his magic turned inwards, a ragged scream trying to tear itself out of his throat. All that came up was blood, coating his mouth and sticking to his teeth. The pressure disappeared for a moment and Wash felt like he couldn’t breathe at all, like he were drowning in the rush of blood and pain that was crashing over him. There was nothing that would keep him safe, nothing that could bring him back. Blood coated his teeth as another ragged noise struggled out of his throat, wanting to break free from his chest but it just brought up more hot sticky copper. He could hear clamoring, growling, voices, things washing over him like distant oncoming waves that threatened to drag him back under. Wash grabbed onto the first thing he could, felt it squeeze back. Anchoring him, buoying him to the surface.

“ _Maine_ ,” broke from between his teeth like a gasp for air.

It felt all too familiar.

“ _Wash_ ,” fervent, low and terrified.

Warmth enveloped him as he was hauled into Maine’s chest, his partner tucking him close like he were a child. Wash felt his fingers scramble for a purchase, slick and messy, pressing himself against Maine like he’d float away again. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn’t cry, not then. Not yet. Not safe.

“Wash, Wash, _Washington_ ,” Maine’s low burr kept him from drifting away.

Something wet landed on Wash’s cheeks. Maine was crying.

“Okay, Mainer. I’m okay,” Wash rasped, trying for humor and falling somewhere sad and quiet.

“Got fucking shot. _Again_.” Maine rasped.

His eyes were full of fear, his shoulders wound tight and hunched over Wash like that would keep him safe. Blood was caked on his shirt and Wash could feel it making his shirt tacky. The distant wail of alarms was giving him a migraine, and the thud of boots was enough to make his bones shake. He ignored all that and gave a ragged, weak laugh, letting his head loll against Maine’s chest.

“Sorry bout that. Broke a promise, huh? Sorry,” Wash reached a trembling hand up towards Maine’s cheek, wanting to hold him back.

Maine just pulled him closer, practically curled over him as more tears fell. “...Stop scaring me, Wash,”

“I know, I’m sorry,”

More tears and Wash wasn’t sure if they were finally his own or more of Maine’s. He didn’t have long to wonder as the alarms finally silenced and in their disturbing absence came a brilliantly chipper voice of Dr. Emily Grey.

“Ahh, Wash and Maine! I was wonderin’ when you’d get out. Seems like you got shot again Washington, that’s not very healthy, you know. Also, incredibly mundane.”

She sank to her knees, uncaring as her jeans were stained in blood, her long dyed pink hair coiled back in a braid, her olive skin washed out from the lighting and the bloodloss made his vision swim, though Wash could feel his magic tugging him back together.

"Thanks doc, I'll member that one next time," Wash huffed, breathless amusement mixing well with pain. It took the edge off.

She laughed and shook her head, reaching out with gloved hands to press gently around the healing wound, nodding to Maine before she turned her whole attention to Wash’s wound.

“Good news! You’re no longer actively bleeding and it seems that your internal bleeding has slowed as well. You don’t even have a bullet in you, and Wash’s magic did it’s job description to your coat, Maine. Not a speck of blood on it.”

“Go home, please?” Wash mumbled, still feeling breathless.

Emily nodded, her expression so much softer than either man was expectating. “Go and rest. No insane shit for at least a month, and eat sugar and proteins. Your magic isn’t gonna replace blood loss, and you two’ll need a ride,” she paused, then grinned. “I’ll drive you! I know where you live already, and I can absolutely clear you by then. Maine, you’ll need to pick him up, he’s not walking until you’re home,”

Wash would have laughed but he didn’t trust his lungs to keep in enough air. Maine nodded tersely before he stood, easily gathering Wash’s body up and following Emily through the halls. Wash closed his eyes and pressed his face into Maine’s chest and focused on breathing. He didn’t need to know where they were going so long as it was out. Maine tightened his hold on him until it was borderline painful and Wash merely leaned into his touch, unwilling to even give the idea of leaving his partners arms a thought. Finally, the feeling of wind and the smell of everything not recycled air hit him and Wash cracked an eye open; they weren’t anywhere near the docks they’d first entered three days ago. Emily was explaining rapid fire what had happened in the first place as Wash tuned into the one sided conversation.

“So, you two went off line super early, and General Kimball was real worried, not that she’d say that, and had all of us scouring the docks for you. Only you weren’t there and instead we found a whole network of tunnels! It was fascinating, and now that I have the time, I’m absolutely going to be looking through the whole thing. From what I can tell, based on a handful of things I won’t bore you with now, there’s four buildings, not including this one, and we were sweeping through all of them. Underground jams the signal from the phone, so it wasn’t until you two got near topside, I was able to latch onto the signal and get y’all out!”

“Diesel,” Maine said as soon as Emily paused for breath. “Did you find him?”

Emily shook her head slowly. “Sorry guys, but there weren’t any other prisoners there, and no one who manned their stations at any of the compounds matched his physical description.”

Silence lapsed and stretched on. Emily let them quietly process and mourn, Wash tightening his hold on Maine’s shirt as his chest ached in a completely different way, the pain of losing a friend, of Diesel potentially being locked up somewhere else, of a million and one more terrible things that the Counselor could have done to him.

“Counselor's a Fey,” Maine rumbled, thumb rubbing at Wash’s shoulder. “Don’t give him your names. Should shoot him point blank.”

Emily turned and gave him and Wash one of her sharp smiles that made even the strongest want to run for the hills.

“I’ve never had a chance to work with another Fey. This’ll be fun. Think I could dissect his brain?”

Maine huffed, darkly amused. “If you do, tell me.”

Emily giggled, the sound just shy of tinkling bells, the sound sending the remaining soldiers outside scattering.

“Can do.”

She led them to her car and Maine got inside carefully, not letting go of Wash for all the world. Emily turned on the radio as she slid into the driver's seat and carefully drove them home. Wash curled so his face was tucked up against Maine’s neck and Maine’s large, gentle hand was cradling the back of his head, thumb brushing over his growing undercut and the scars from fingernails and magic implants, long removed. The only person allowed to touch them. Wash wanted to cry, wanted to scream and break down, and from the slight hitch in Maine’s breathing and the stutter of the way his thumb was brushing over the back of his neck, he did too. The drive back through town was almost listless, Wash toggling back and forth between being in slow healing discomfort that punched the air from his lungs anytime he moved too fast, and feeling like he were going to break down and cry, though too many emotions were trying to push through the door at once. Emily finally pulled up into the driveway and hopped out before Maine could even think of reaching for the door, letting him and Wash out.

The smell of the garden and the gentle buzz of bees had tears welling up in Wash’s eyes, though he didn’t move his head from Maine’s neck. His partner took large, easy steps up the short walk to their front door, Emily holding it open for them and cooing as Captain came rocketing down the hall as soon as she heard the door open, the norwegian forest cat mewing up at them.

“Awww, pretty baby! Lookit your grey and white coat! You’re such a pretty little one, aren’t you?”

“Captain,” Maine murmured and the cat immediately started to climb up Maine’s leg, curling so she was wrapped around his neck, her face pressed against Wash’s, her purrs making the both of them relax more and more.

“Right, bathroom~” Emily said, gesturing for Maine to lead the way.

Wash felt himself breathe a little easier as they walked immediately through the large, comfortable kitchen and great room, Emily pushing the double doors that lead to it and then the hall beyond to the guest room. Maine nodded to a set of stairs and Emily flitted upstairs, quick as could be, and Maine followed. At the top of the stairs, he turned left, away from the corner that had their incredibly comfortable bed, and towards their bathroom. Emily was already raiding the towel closet and laying them down in the bathtub before she nodded and moved away, letting Maine lay Wash down gently.

“Big guy, you should go get fresh clothes,” she said, not looking away from Wash’s wound. “For both of you. I need to cut him out of these,”

“S’already healed,” Wash muttered, whining a little when Maine reluctantly pulled away from him.

“And I’m the doctor, so deal,” Emily chirped back as she sat on the edge of the tub.

Wash grunted and closed his eyes as he let her grab the shirt and yank, ripping the bloody front clean off. There was the sound of Maine rustling around and running water, then the odd cool touch from Emily’s hands directly against his skin and the pressure from her wiping him up. Wash floated, too tired to process, and only really registered that Emily had moved away when Maine’s warm hands was cradling his head again, clothes in his lap, Captain around his shoulders and attempting to crawl down his arm to Wash, and not a speck of blood on him.

“Em-?” Wash rasped.

“Left few minutes ago,” Maine murmured. “Said to make sure that you’d gotten a shower and food and water. Nap if we can,”

Wash nodded slowly, feeling the steady sweep of Maine’s thumb at his temple. That’s all it takes for the dam to burst and the tears to start falling in a torrent, pained heaves making his heart twinge and his stomach twist. He couldn’t make words form, couldn’t make the thick cotton in his mouth make sense or the jumbled, adrenaline soaked paranoia disappear. Maine cried, softer, but his shoulders trembled and his breath hitched as they scrambled to hold each other and know they were alright, know that it wasn’t a dream. Wash wasn’t sure how long it took for them to wind down, breaths stuttering and chests aching.

“H-He’s gone,” Maine rasped, wiping away Wash’s tears. “He’s gone,”

Wash nodded, breath stuttering again, a laugh bursting out of his chest. It was too high pitched to be considered a laugh.

“We-We got him, Maine. We got him,”

It didn’t feel real.

“Should tell Carolina and York,” Maine murmured. “And the others. Make sure they know it’s safe.”

Wash’s breath stuttered and his back ached where he’d been shot, beating in a dull echo of his fresh wound.

“Yeah,”

Neither of them moved for a long while, uncaring of how stiff they were becoming, the buzz of limbs falling asleep barely registering to either of them. Captain’s steady purring was a grounding force, her slow inching crawl towards Wash not stopping until her nose was pressed into the shell of his ear and her tail was tickling Maine’s cheek. It was a little while after that that Wash finally managed to uncurl his fingers from Maine’s shirt, a shiver crawling through him at having his shirt hanging open.

“Help me up?” Wash finally asked. “Need a shower.”

Maine nodded and pulled Captain off of his arm with a faint noise of protest from the cat, before he helped Wash up. Maine’s hands were gentle as they always were, helping Wash shrug out of the coat and then peel off the rest of his clothes, sweat laden and bloody.

“Everything else?”

“Already tossed it,” Maine promised. “Emily said she’d talk to Kimball, keep us from being interrogated,”

“Good,” Wash signed, too tired for words.

Maine purred, pressing a kiss to his temple and left Wash to peel himself out of his pants as he pulled the towels out of the tub to use it for a proper shower. Captain left with an annoyed meow and went to curl up on their bed, happier there as Maine fiddled with the water and Wash grabbed a plastic bag from underneath their sink, usually used for trash bags, to stuff his ruined clothes inside. He didn’t bat an eye when Maine stripped as he walked over to the shower, the pair of them climbing into the shower and simply soaking up the pleasant heat of the water. They slowly scrubbed themselves down, Maine bending down to let Wash clean his hair, smiling against his collar bone as he pressed a soft kiss there. While Maine washed the soap from his hair, Wash finished scrubbing himself clean, careful around the tender scar over his heart. Maine started to rub shampoo into his hair, making Wash melt against him.

“I love you,” Wash signed against Maine’s ribs as Maine scrubbed conditioner into his hair.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Maine signed against his collarbone, hand sweeping through Wash’s unfortunate undercut. “Going to be happy to see your hair grow out again. Should’ve killed Counselor for fucking up your hair.”

Wash snorted, knowing Maine was trying to make him laugh, knew his partner would know it would succeed. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know Maine was smiling at him.

“Prolly made me look like a disaster,”

“Give some credit,” Maine said, amused. “Could prolly match me,”

Wash paused then nodded. “Fuck it, get the hair clippers. After we get out, ass,” he added as Maine raised an eyebrow.

Maine just laughed, low and amused, and finished scrubbing soap out of his hair and let Wash clean himself off before he turned off the water. Maine handed him a towel and they dried off, though Wash didn’t bother to touch his hair and pulled on his clothes, wrapping his towel around his neck as he stared himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess; the blond had long begun to fade, and the natural black of his hair was already growing back. Where he’d had been keeping his hair fairly neatly trimmed out of sheer habit, Maine had convinced him to start growing it out, and after being caught by the Counselor, his regulation undercut was back, though the rest of his hair was hacked unevenly. Maine rooted through the drawer before he brought out the clippers, clicking them on and started to work. Wash closed his eyes, not wanting to see what his partner came up with. What felt like hours later, Maine turned the clippers off, their electric buzz still ghosting over his skull and Wash opened his eyes, staring at himself. Slate grey eyes too tired, almond skin. His hair was shorter. Maine had cut most everything off, leaving him with much closer fuzz and the rest of it flipped over to the side, just trimmed down more. They matched. Wash turned around and watched Maine mop up the hairs that had fallen to the floor, absently brushing his hand over the nape of his neck. He felt pleasantly numbed out, for the first time in months.

“Coffee?” he asked.

Maine paused, then shook his head. “Snack and then bed,”

“Thank gods for the snack drawer,”

Maine smiled, one of his real, soft ones that made Wash’s heart melt between his ribs and fill every little awkward crack.

“Bed, come on sweetheart,”

Wash nodded and stumbled after Maine, happy to follow after his love with a quiet word. Maine guided him to lie down and went to the top drawer in their bureau to grab their favorite snacks; chocolates, dried fruits, and peanuts. Maine put their snacks down by Wash, who’d tucked himself under the warm, soft covers and thick comforter. Captain curled up around his shoulders immediately, kneading at his shoulders as she butted her head against his cheeks and Wash gave her chin scratches.

Maine returned a moment later with his coat, laying it out over Wash before he joined him in bed. They quietly munched on their snacks until they were gone, words having long fled as exhaustion caught up. When they were full, there wasn’t a crumb left, though Captain had curled up happily between them, pawing at the edges of Maine’s coat, her tail flicking and curling. Maine pulled Wash closer and he went easily, fisting his hands in Maine’s shirt as he tangled their legs together, uncaring of where one of them began and the other ended. Maine wrapped his arms around Wash, holding him tight as though he’d disappear without a trace, nose buried in his hair and breathing hitching now and again. Wash tucked himself up as close as he could to Maine, breathing slow as he could get himself to, the thunderous roar of Maine’s heart under his hand comforting.

“Never do that again,” Maine whispered.

“Promise,” Wash mumbled back, craning his head back to kiss Maine softly, feeling his partner kiss back, warm and slow.

“Marry me?” Maine mumbled after a moment.

Wash blinked and smiled, a sleepy happiness jolting his body.

“Thought we already were. But yeah, big guy, I will.”

Maine purred, the soothing rumbled matched by Captain who was happily cuddled against their stomachs, purring no quieter than Maine. Wash knew he’d have to process it when they woke up, but the day had been too much. Sleep first, marriage proposal later.

++++

It never failed to impress and shock Fiona when she saw Diesel curl into a small space not meant for the large man. It wasn’t just his physical size either, but his overall intense presence and his ability to draw the eye to him. If it wasn’t the sharp, wolf like teeth, it was his intense dark grey eyes or the tattoos littered across his olive skin, or his cobalt blue hair, shaved underneath and pulled into a bun, dyed with magical means to be brighter. But there he was, curled up on the couch with a book, almost entirely still if it weren’t for the slow rise and fall of his chest and the occasional turn of the page.

“Hey, D,” she said, waving to catch his attention, having learned from the months of working with the giant that getting too close unexpectedly resulted in a punch at best and a full body recoil at worst. “I’m about to head out. You good?”

Diesel looked up and slowly uncurled. “Ready as ever,” he rumbled, voice echoing in his chest. “Waiting long?”

“Nah, the others’ll bitch about their coffee or whatever, but they know we’ll meet them.” she said with a smile, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Diesel gave her a rare smile, little more than a twitch of his lips, but Fiona counted it as a win. He put the book down, clearly remembering the page, and brushed off his jeans before he pulled on his hoodie and nodded to Fiona. Silently, they left the cute townhouse air bnb they’d been renting the last few weeks, Fiona taking the steps down to the walk two at a time while Diesel simply waited for her to reach the walk and took two large steps down. He flinched a little and Fiona looked up at him, worry creasing her brow.

“You don’t have to come along, big guy,”

“Want to,”

Fiona nodded and left it at that, and quietly offered him her hand if he wanted it. None of them knew Diesel’s deal, even after six months of working with the man, but what they had managed to coax out of him was disturbing. He’d been separated from his family and was on the run from some asshole or another. There’d been people that made him flinch, and when they took jobs from the guild it was well known that Diesel liked to run checks on every party listed, looking for something, or someone. Lindsay had a quiet assumption about it being his family, while Alfredo thought it leaned more into whoever was following him. Jeremy and Fiona had decided on a solid middle ground and left it at that, and all of them had a quiet agreement to not pry. It didn’t surprise her when Diesel’s large, calloused hand caught her own and squeezed very gently in quiet appreciation.

The walk down the street was comfortably quiet, neither of them needing to speak; Fiona because she didn’t see the point and Diesel because talking took energy from keeping himself from being bombarded with every thought in the vicinity. Thankfully their current job was over, so they’d be heading home soon and Diesel could curl up in his magically reinforced room and relax a touch. Fiona squeezed his hand back and kept an eye out for her wife. Lindsay as usual wasn’t hard to find, and not far behind her were Alfredo and Jeremy, Jeremy carefully holding Alfredo’s wrapped hand, rubbing his thumb up and down his boyfriend’s knuckles. Lindsay pushed their sunglasses into their hair and waved with a smile.

“Hey!” Lindsay called, beaming smile visible even from a distance and Fiona felt her heart melt a little more. “There you two are! We were gonna get coffee without you at this point,”

“Well you know my order by heart,” Fiona said with a soft smile of her own, wrapping her free arm around Lindsay as she got close, kissing her partner. “Hi,”

“Hi yourself,” Lindsay said, then looked to Diesel, their gaze softening to something more maternal and understanding.

That Diesel could pick any of them up and break them over his knee, was six foot something of functional muscle and looked like he would bite a femur in half didn’t apply for Lindsay. They hadn’t been scared in the slightest when they first met the outwardly aggressive man and was one of the first to break through his barriers.

“Hey there,” they said, softer, warmer. “You good?”

Diesel nodded and squeezed Fiona’s hand once then let go. Fiona didn’t try and stop him. She let him stuff his hands into his hoodie pocket, shoulders hunching in a little bit that made her quietly worry but she tried to not do that outwardly. Lindsay worried enough for everyone.

“Hey man,” Alfredo said with an easy grin, looking up at Diesel. “Glad to see you up and about.”

Diesel grunted in affirmation and gave a small shrug. “Wanted to get outside for a little bit,”

“I getcha,” Alfredo said with a nod.

Jeremy frowned a little. “Didn’t you see the package I left on your side table?”

Diesel shook his head slowly and Jeremy huffed.

“It was a pair of headphones. They’re not fancy, but they’re useful to block out noise. Trevor swears by them. He may be a touch telepath, but he still gets the soft,” Jeremy wriggled his fingers at his temple. “Now and again.”

Diesel looked surprised before he gave Jeremy another rare smile and a small nod. “Okay,” he said. “Thanks.”

“No problem dude. It’d drive me up the wall if I had to deal with that shit. Increased senses are bad enough,” he grinned, his own sharp teeth flashing. “You’re not entirely alone in how horribly loud other people can be.”

Diesel snorted. “You’ve got no idea,”

It was a gentle tease from Diesel, or as gentle as he got. It was good though, and Fiona could see Lindsay wanted to hug him out of sheer joy. They wouldn’t, but Fiona knew her partner well.

“Coffee?” Fiona asked. “Or did you actually go ahead and get some without getting us any?”

“No, we waited, promise.” Lindsay laughed. “Though Alfredo was about to say fuck it and go get it for himself,”

“I mean,” Alfredo shrugged a shoulder, unapologetic. “I’ve been up all night finishing up the last bits of the contract and making sure we got paid. I am allowed to be ready to drop kick someone if it means it’ll get me coffee, even if it ends up being Diesel,”

Diesel’s chest rumbled as he laughed, his sharp teeth on display as he tossed his head back. Jeremy giggled and Fiona rolled her eyes.

“Come on then, let’s get Fredo caffeinated before he breaks his foot trying to drop kick Diesel.”

“I’d like to see him try,” he said, still grinning.

Alfredo laughed and shook his head. “Nah man, I’ll pass. Leave that to Jeremy,”

“We never did get to wrestle,”

Lindsay gave Fiona a look that was full of fond exasperation before they said, “Okay kids, come on, let’s go. Coffee first, wrestling tournaments at home where we can properly bet on the winner.”

Jeremy and Diesel grinned at each other and Fiona simply rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Boys. The rest of the walk to the coffee shop was filled with comfortable chatter and at some point, Fiona saw Diesel slip his hand out of his pocket and shyly tap against Lindsay’s. Her partner didn’t even break stride in their conversation with Jeremy about baking adventures in the too early morning and grabbed Diesel’s hand tight like he would be ripped away from them if they didn’t. Diesel held on a little gentler, but still tight. Fiona hid her smile and went back to cueing into Alfredo telling her about the latest comic he’d been reading, Ms. Marvel. By the time they got there, Diesel was quietly listening in, making quiet noises as he took interest in Lindsay and Jeremy’s conversation.

“You bake, big guy?” Lindsay asked, looking at him.

Diesel shook his head. “Friend did. Does.” he stopped and shrugged. “Prolly still does.”

Fiona and Alfredo shared a quick look as Lindsay smiled, squeezing his hand quickly in response.

“Well they probably still like doing it. Bit hard to quit baking cold turkey. Lil J tried and look where it got him,”

“Hey, baking at midnight is a perfectly acceptable time to be making brownies,”

“No, no it really isn’t,” Fiona snorted, grinning.

Jeremy and Lindsay both ignored her and Diesel hummed.

“...She used to get up at stupid hours to pace or train, and he’d always hear her, make her things.”

Diesel’s quiet admission nearly made all of them full stop, staring at the man.

“What?”

“That’s the most backstory we’ve gotten out of you in how long that we’ve known you?” Lindsay said, squeezing his hand again.

Alfredo nodded. “Seriously dude, it’s been a process. Not a bad process, you do you.”

“Privacy is privacy,” Jeremy added. “We weren’t gonna pry but, damn dude it’s been a year and we didn’t get jackshit.”

Diesel snorted sofly. “Would’ve told you if you asked. Or told you to fuck off if I didn’t want to talk.”

Fiona felt her ears warm a little. “Okay, yeah. That’s-That’s fair. But still! You avoid everyone at all costs unless we’re going on a job. And none of us wanna go barge into your space uninvited,”

“What I’m getting from this is that we’re all incredibly, deeply socially awkward and don’t know how to talk to new friends,” Lindsay said succinctly.

“No yeah, that’s fair,” Jeremy nodded. “Let’s get inside and discuss the finer points of our stupidity there. I want my hot chocolate, damn it.”

They gathered around the Specials chalkboard outside the busy shop. It was usually best to send one or two people in and have them get everyone else’s orders, leaving the other two to wait outside with Diesel. He took up space and acted as a good deterrent, but small enclosed spaces were not a pleasant experience.

“I’m a basic bitch, whoever goes in get me a pumpkin caramel spice.” Lindsay said, barely glancing at the board. “Ohh, wait, they’ve got that really good hot chocolate with the marshmallow flavoring. That one please. Fifi, you want a caramel latte?”

Fiona nodded absently, still looking over the board. “Hmn-mn.”

“Ooohh, they’ve got mocha lattes. D, you wanna try one of-D?” Alfredo looked up from the chalkboard over to Diesel who had stiffened beside him.

“D, what is it buddy?” Jeremy asked, quickly scanning the streets for any sign of what could have made the man freeze.

Across the street, sitting at a cafe, was a red headed, pale skinned woman in an grey-yellow jacket, jeans and boots, her hair pulled back into a french braid, and a man in jeans and an orange jacket, who could have been an older version of Diesel if Diesel had a well curled mustache and stubble beard, and short, curly black hair. They were staring at Diesel like they didn’t believe their eyes, the woman’s mouth hanging open, her eyes wide as the slighter, shorter version of Diesel put a hand to his mouth, staring.

“D, what-?” Fiona didn’t get a chance to finish her question as Diesel sprinted across the street towards them, long legs eating up the distance.

The pair stood abruptly, sending their chairs clattering to the ground. The red head leapt over the low barrier in a single graceful move and the older version of Diesel followed a step behind her, not as graceful but close enough. Fiona tore off after Diesel, her magic instinctively coiling down her arms and tickling her fingertips, and she didn’t need to look behind herself to know that the others were close behind, prepared to fight if need be.

“How is he so fucking fast!?” Alfredo demanded.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Run faster,” Lindsay retorted.

Fiona braced for a fight to break out as the trio got close, opening her mouth to call on a creature. Only to stop and stare as Diesel skidded to a halt in front of the pair, his shoulders heaving and broad body blocking most of the action. Until he bent down a little and pulled the shorter man into a fierce hug, holding him tight and picking him straight off the ground, making the other man laugh and hug him back. She traded confused looks with the rest of her group and slowly got closer, the red head watching them, bright green eyes sharp and untrusting.

“And who the hell are you four?” she asked, voice sharp and immediate, despite the slight soft drawl.

“Friends,” Diesel said, before Fiona could open her mouth, his voice barely heard over the now sobbing man in his arms. “They’re my friends, Carolina.”

Carolina’s expression softened immediately as Fiona looked to Diesel in shock, her eyes wide. She hadn’t expected that one, not in the slightest.

“Well then, sorry for being rude. I’m Carolina, that sobbing mess is my fiance, York. We’re Diesel’s friends.”

Diesel didn’t look at all bothered to be holding York, if anything he held on tighter, all but clutching to the man.

“What happened, how did you-?” Diesel whispered, not letting York go for all the world. “I thought-You all just--”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” York sobbed into his shoulder. “Fuck, you were just gone and then the collapse and Maine-”

Carolina reached out and put a hand on Diesel’s arm, pale fingers trembling slightly as she fisted his jacket tight.

“We missed you.” she said, her smile watery. “I’m so sorry, Diesel.”

He shook his head a little and hiccupped. “S’fine. Where’s Wash and Maine?”

Carolina shifted a little, uncomfortable. “We don’t know, exactly. Wash left us a message to take care of Captain and that he and Maine would be back before the end of the month.” she let out a sigh that would’ve been explosive from anyone else. “For right now, let’s stop causing a scene in the middle of the street. Did you all walk or drive?”

“Walked,” Jeremy said immediately, unable to stop himself. “Why-?”

“We drove out here,” Carolina explained, keeping one hand on Diesel as though he’d disappear on her. “We can fit you all. It’s Maine’s car, so we can fit more than enough,”

“I mean, I can turn into a cat or something small,” Jeremy offered. “Be easier to save a little space. Especially since I don’t think those two are gonna let go any time soon,”

Carolina gave a small smile and nodded. “That’d be a good idea. Come on, we’re not far. We’ll explain things when we get to the cottage.”

Lindsay nodded and shrugged. “Alright. Diesel vouches for you, and you look like decent people.”

Carolina blinked in surprise and Fiona nodded, shrugging.

“Sounds fair to me. Fredo, Lil J?”

The pair looked at each other and Alfredo shrugged a little. “I’m inclined to trust D. He says you’re friends, and we’re his friends, then I’m chill with it. I’m feeling lucky anyways,”

Jeremy snorted and gently shoved Alfredo. “That’s a shitty joke and you know it.”

“Got you to laugh though,” Alfredo grinned.

Carolina’s expression gentled and she smiled a little more, the worry lines around her eyes softened to smile lines. Fiona didn’t miss the way she was looking them all over, cataloging them, as though making sure they were all there and alright. She gave Carolina a small smile and slight nod in return. York finally let go of Diesel to drop to the ground, though Diesel clung to his hand like a small child would a parent. Fiona held tight to Lindsay’s hand as Carolina fell in step alongside Alfredo, clearly well used to guarding a flank, and Fiona felt herself relax a touch more. She could see in Carolina’s posture that she was worried, though about what Fiona could only guess. Despite not knowing them, Fiona hoped Wash and Maine, whoever they were, were alright and came back sooner than later.

Carolina and York led the way to Maine’s car, an older model Rover, though it looked like it would work fine. Jeremy immediately shifted into a hummingbird and flitted up to Alfredo’s hair, perching there despite his boyfriend’s grumbling. York and Diesel hadn’t let go of each other for an instant and Diesel made a quiet noise in the back of his throat as he looked at the car.

“I’ve got shotgun,” Alfredo called, raising his hand. “Lil J and I can chill with Carolina,”

“I can sit in Lindsay’s lap,” Fiona added, giving her partner a sweet smile as Lindsay snorted, pushing her a little.

“You’re lucky you’re cute as shit, Fifi,”

She beamed and they piled into the car, Alfredo and Jeremy in the front, Jeremy now resting in Alfredo’s hands, and with a little maneuvering, Fiona, Lindsay, York and Diesel managed to get into the back with minimal elbow ramming into guts. Carolina pulled out and kept the radio low as she drove.

“How did you all meet?” York asked, his voice still choked up. “What happened?”

“...Got out,” Diesel rumbled. “Got away, just kept running. I looked for everyone, but all I found was blood and Phase’s knife, thought the worst. Wandered for a few months and came across a guild that was hiring. Met these idiots and their friends.”

“Geoff and Jack were about ready to adopt him, but Lindsay beat him to it,” Alfredo said, grinning.

“You scared me shitless, big guy, but you’re really just a socially awkward teddy bear,” they said with a nod and Diesel grunted, smiling a little.

“Fair.”

“We wound up doing jobs with him for about two months before we decided we were gonna keep him, and then he slowly started to open up to us,” Alfredo continued. “He and Fiona really bonded though. She basically became his big sister,”

“That makes you York’s baby sister too then,” Carolina said, a grin in her voice. “Since he’s Diesel’s older brother,”

“Little older brother,” York said, still clinging to Diesel. “Fuck I was terrified,”

Fiona and Lindsay shared a look but they didn’t ask. Comfortable silence lapsed, more comfortable than anyone had been expecting, and Lindsay hugged Fiona tighter, unwilling to let her go for all the world. Fiona held on just as tight. Finally, the city began to shift into rolling hills and woods, calmer and quieter than the bustle of the town.

“We’ve been staying in the guest room,” Carolina explained. “Made it easier than driving out here daily, and made Wash and Maine’s house feel a little more lived in. It’s just up ahead,”

The cottage was a lovely little two story stone building with vines growing up the side with a vibrant garden on both sides of the few short steps up to the front porch. Two rocking chairs sat a few feet from the door, with a cushioned swing bench hung from the overhang. There were large windows that showed the inside, though the curtains had been drawn, they looked to be bay windows, or a kitchen nook. The distant hum of bees was a calming white noise, and they piled out of the car, York practically being carried by Diesel. Carolina made her way up to the door and unlocked it, letting them all inside.

“Take your shoes off, Captain will attack your laces otherwise,” she warned, leaning against the wall and then paused, her eyes widening.

There, walking down the hall, was a man who looked like he wouldn’t be out of place as a bodybuilder, built with heavy, functional muscle, dark almond brown skin marred with scars, old and new. His face was marked with a scar across his temple over his nose to his cheek and his neck was thick scar tissue that looked painful, and he looked, at first glance, terrifying but there was a softness to him. He had a loose dark blue hoodie on and pajama pants with little seals on them and slippers, a grey and white cat curled around his shoulders. He blinked, amber eyes widening as he took in the group, a low noise like a growl rolling through his chest, the sound rough and concerned. Carolina launched herself at the large man, holding him tight and he immediately hugged her back, holding on tight.

“Maine,” she choked out. “Fuck, where’s Wash-?”

“Upstairs,” Maine rumbled. “Waking up. How’d you find Diesel?”

Diesel and York were close behind, wrapping themselves tight around Maine, who looked like he were about to cry. Alfredo nodded to the family room and Jeremy made a quiet chirp from his hands. Fiona waved a little.

“That’d be us, actually. We uh...Can we sit or-?”

“Couch,” Maine rumbled, not looking up. “Can sit there,”

“Okay, cool,” she nodded and tugged at Lindsay’s hand, pulling them along behind her, Alfredo and Jeremy a few steps behind them.

Carolina detached from the mess of limbs somehow and sprinted upstairs and by the sound of excited shouts, words too muffled to be clear, meant anything, Wash was awake and excited. Fiona sat down on the comfortably large couch, sitting cross legged, putting her back to the corner of the L shape. Alfredo sat next to her, relaxed as could be, Jeremy sitting on his knee as Lindsay settled on her otherside. The living room was large, and very comfortable. There was the couch they were currently sitting on, then the hearth and working fireplace, from the wood stacked up beside the brick, on the opposite wall. There was an impressive entertainment center directly across from them, and two very comfortable looking armchairs at the fireplace. There was a large floor to ceiling bookshelf crammed with books and cat toys littered everywhere, as well as a cat tower that spanned the rest of the wall, made of platforms and rope covered poles. There was a bit of shuffling and then York joined them, rubbing his eyes still. He sat heavily next to Alfredo and gave them all a tired but happy smile.

“Thank you, for bringing Diesel home,” he said. “Seriously. We never thought we’d see him again.”

“We’re happy to help,” Lindsay said with a soft smile of their own. “I can only imagine what y’all have gone through to think he was dead.”

York heaved a sigh and nodded. “I’ll...We’ll explain when everyone’s here and there’s less shouting.”

As it was, there was muffled shouting and clamouring, all excited voices overlapping each other. York just looked so much older than he deserved to look in that moment, drawn into himself.

“We’re really lucky that you all were there,” York finally said as the sounds began to peter out and quiet down. “Like, really fucking lucky,”

Alfredo just smiled a little as he watched the other four walk into the room. Wash was a little shorter than Carolina with almond skin and black hair that was shaved on all sides expect for the top of his head, where it was much shorter than Maine’s and still flopped over a little, and he looked even more tired than Maine, but he was smiling. A scar on his chin cut into his lip a little, old and clearly worn, and another ancient scar was at his temple. He was wearing a spotted grey leather jacket over a dark blue shirt and a pair of pajama pants with cats on them, the large cat now wrapped around his shoulders as he and Maine sat on the long end of the couch and Carolina took one of the arm chairs.

“You the ones that brought Diesel home?” he paused, then added, “I’m Wash. Carolina’s brother,”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lindsay,” they gave a wave and a smile. “I’ve essentially adopted Diesel, but I’m willing to split custody,”

Diesel laughed, the sound rare but busting out of him like a shotgun shot. Wash grinned as Carolina snorted and Maine gave a wheezing laugh. York just looked affronted as he said,

“Excuse you, Diesel!”

Fiona snorted and shook her head. She loved her wife.

“I’m Fiona Tuggey-Nova, this one’s wife.”

“Alfredo Diaz, at your service,” Alfredo said with a nod. “And this is my boyfriend Jeremy, who should have dropped being a hummingbird about five minutes ago.”

Jeremy buzzed and flew out of Alfredo’s hands before he hovered for a moment and then shifted back into a human, giving a sheepish wave.

“Hi, I’m Jeremy Dooley.”

“How did y’all find Diesel?” Carolina asked.

Alfredo raised his hand. “I’m a luck caster, so I just constantly exude good luck. When I focus on something or someone, I can make things more lucky, on the off set that I’ll get bad luck.” he shrugged. “It’s helpful. We found Diesel, or really he found us, and Lindsay basically adopted him. The rest of our friends live in a house a few hours out from here, and we take on jobs from the guild. It was a little bit of luck that we took this contract, and then even luckier that Diesel found Carolina and York when he did. Keep in mind, I can’t make things like, perfectly lucky. I can only make things a little more lucky. Instead of a twenty-hundred chance, I make it a fifty-fifty.”

York whistled and shook his head. “Damn. Don’t let South meet you, she’ll wanna take you to a shooting range.”

Alfredo grinned. “She sounds like my kind of person.”

“Oh gods there’s four of them,” Wash muttered as Carolina smiled.

“How did you all lose Diesel in the first place?” Lindsay asked. “It’s a little hard to lose a person,”

Diesel shifted as Maine looked at him and Carolina rubbed the back of her neck. Wash shifted a little and York looked away, reaching out and grabbing tight to Diesel’s hand.

“I didn’t wanna talk about it,” Diesel mumbled to Maine’s unasked question. “Felt too fresh.”

“Well, they deserve to know,” Carolina said after a beat. “We’ve got a long history, and summed up...We were part of a guild that we thought was for the betterment of magic. It turns out, it was run by a bunch of warmongering fey that were hells bent on tearing the magical world apart. We were a part of that, and, if you’ve known Diesel this long,” she rubbed the back of her neck.

“We were mind controlled,” Diesel said. “Implants, tech and magic together, made AI’s that fucked us up before we ripped them out, get them out. Project Freelancer was a bitch. We went out to stop the Counselor, all of us,”

“There’s more?” Lindsay asked, their eyebrows climbing.

“Wyomig, Florida, North and South, Conn-Conneticut, Texas, Phase, and Zero,” Wash said, ticking the names off his fingers. “We took up state names cause w-we lost them. To the Fey. Didn’t feel like our names anymore. We went after the Counselor and the Director the first time to take them down with some friends of ours, but they’d expected us. We were separated and attacked, the building came down on us and Maine and South were badly hurt.” he took a deep breath. “We went back in, soon as I had them on their feet, and tried to find Diesel. We only found scraps of his clothes and a lot of blood. We were terrified that he was actually dead and we didn’t know where he’d gone.”

“...Where did you and Maine go off to?” Jeremy asked, leaning forward a little. “Carolina said earlier, you two were gone and said you’d be back before the end of the month.”

Maine let out a grumble and shook his head. “We agreed to help Kimball, old friend of Carolina and Wash.”

York sucked in a sharp breath as Diesel’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t-” York started. “Wash, tell me you two didn’t-”

“We did,” Maine said as Wash gave a little shrug. “Had to tie up the loose ends and keep you all safe, and see if we could find Diesel.”

“It was the only thing we could think of doing,” Wash explained. “We’d lost him before and we didn’t know if he’d ever come back. And if he didn’t have Diesel, he’d know where he was. We got caught on purpose, three days ago.” Carolina flinched, just a little, but it was clear. Wash continued. “It really fucking sucked. One of them fucked up my hair, and Maine was stuck as a seal for the last three days, and I got beat to hell but nothing physical stuck.” Wash shrugged a little, reaching back and rubbing at the back of his neck. “I tricked the guard watching us and got out, and then Maine and I found our stuff and made our way topside cause the Counselor is the same as ever and is a dramatic piece of shit who’s got connected underground bases, like really?”

Wash huffed and rolled his eyes as Carolina shook her head and York and Diesel snorted in amusement.

“You also got shot again.” Maine rumbled. “When the bastard snuck up on us, froze me in a containment circle and shot you.”

“You got shot?!” York and Carolina demanded simultaneously.

“Holy shit dude you shouldn’t be up and moving,” Fiona said, crossing her arms.

“We should also prolly get going,” Jeremy added, looking between everyone. “Let you all get acquainted again,”

“Stay,” Maine said with a low rumble, nodding to the couch. “S’fine. Wash is just stupid.”

“Hey!” Wash snapped. “I’m not stupid all the time! Just sometimes. And besides that, I’m fine. Emily cleared me and my magic took care of the rest."

“That only does so much to help, Wash,” Carolina sighed, rubbing her temples. “Gods above why’re you like this?”

“Says the woman who once threw both of us off a collapsing building and we were incredibly lucky Maine caught us with a car,” York said, smiling a little.

Carolina opened her mouth to argue before she stopped and heaved a sigh, shaking her head. Wash looked over to the small group and raised an eyebrow.

“No...Questions about that?” he asked slowly.

Diesel tossed his head back and laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck, you should see the shit they do on a regular basis. Makes you assholes look tame.”

Maine laughed, the sound low and happy, rolling through his chest like thunder. “Should meet the others,”

“They can do that at the wedding, just have to get them to get out here.” Wash muttered, smiling a little.

“Well, we’re married in all but name,” Carolina said with a shrug and a look to York. “And the others already responded yes to the invite,” she trailed off.

“Wait, are you-?” York’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“Shit, congrats,” Diesel said, smiling a little.

“Awww! I can make a wedding cake!” Lindsay said, clasping their hands over their chest. “Y’all are so cute together!”

“Linds, Maine looks like he’d break us over his knee like a glow stick at a rave,” Jeremy started before he stopped and shook his head. “Nevermind, what am I saying? You adopted Diesel like the second day we knew him,”

“And Maine looks just as sweet,” Lindsay said matter of factly.

Maine blushed a little and Fiona smiled at her partner as Wash chuckled quietly, nudging Maine’s side a little.

“They’ve got you pegged in one, big guy,”

York looked like he were close to crying again and stood to hug Wash tight.

“I’m so happy for you two!” he cried. “You’ve been dancing around each other for so long we thought you’d never do anything!”

“Never-? We’ve been together for ten years York!” Wash said in mock outrage.

Carolina smiled and shook her head, then turned to the others, leaning forward a little. “So, Alfredo does luck and Jeremy turns into animals. What do you two do?”

“Fire,” Lindsay said, holding their thumb out and a dark pink-red flame licked up their skin like they were a candle wick. They blew it out with a smile. “Real useful for keeping things from getting too cold.”

“I’m a summoner,” Fiona said, showing off the scars her magic had burned into her arms from so much use. “Fey and eldritch. They’re good friends, most of the time, and it’s a good way to startle the enemy.”

It felt almost normal, like they were sitting at a guild hall getting ready to go on a contract and wanted to learn about the other’s magic. Fiona was shocked at how normal it was to still be there, after all the emotional talking and the background noise of Wash, York, Maine, and Jeremy talking. Diesel just stayed quiet, but he looked unbothered by everything. Carolina leaned forward a little and nodded to Diesel.

“You prolly know his,”

“Telepathy,” Alfredo said with a nod. “That run in the family?”

Carolina made a so-so motion. “Kind of. York has telekinesis, and Maine’s a selkie.”

Fiona looked Maine over, then to the jacket around Wash’s shoulders and nodded. “I can believe it,”

“What about you and Wash?” Alfredo asked, tilting his head a little.

“Wash has healing,” Carolina said. “And I’ve got nothing. Used to be a sore point until I realized I could kick any of their asses any day of the week,”

“And I’ve never been so happy to have my ass thoroughly kicked,” York said with a sappy smile. “You absolutely wiped the floor with all of us and I’d never been more in love,”

“Sap,” Carolina teased.

Diesel hummed quietly, smiling softly at all of them. Fiona settled against Lindsay’s side, watching Jeremy and Wash get excited over cats and then video games as Alfredo and Maine just shared knowing looks and started to talk about cooking. Carolina settled back in her chair and let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes, letting the sound of a full house wash over her. It never failed to impress Diesel what a full house of good people could do to get someone to unwind, even for a moment.

“Hey Captain,” he murmured to the cat who’d finally left Wash’s shoulders and made her rounds through the room before curling up in his lap.

Diesel settled in for the long haul and leaned his head back, taking a note from Carolina’s book and finally getting some decent sleep as Captain kneaded as his leg, her purrs mixing well with the rest of the general noise of people existing and living together.


End file.
